


Untitled

by dirtsnuggle



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, No Mercy Route, Other, POV Second Person, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtsnuggle/pseuds/dirtsnuggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sans forces a No-Mercy Run reader to atone for their crimes.</p><p>[previously titled Liar, Liar (I'm Not Sorry)]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've posted any of my writing in a long time (we're talking years), so be gentle with my tiny little heart.
> 
> Update: 6/18/2017  
> Have I mentioned that this fic is a huge embarrassment to me? It's a huge embarrassment to me. I wont be deleting or orphaning it, but I will be changing this account's username because I don't want this traced back to any other websites I use. If I ever write any more pornography I'll throw it up on this account but any links and/or bookmarks will no longer work properly if tagged with my old username. I expect this to happen within the next week. See you around, guys.

"Hands on the wall, sinner. Keep them there."

You do as he says, but you can't quite stop your fingers from shaking. He fits his own around your neck easily and you shiver. If he wasn't holding you, one hand around your throat and the other pressing your hips into his, you'd have collapsed already. There are lacerations and burn marks all over your arms and face, and you know the rest of you hasn't fared any better.

You've lost count of how many times you've fought him, how many times he's killed you. You think you're probably a little fucked up for starting to like it.

But this? This is new territory. You're pretty sure there's nothing about this in the game's code, but Sans has always played by his own rules. Considering his connections to Gaster, you honestly wouldn't put it past him to muck around in the files and fuck you over harder than he already has.

You'd cross your fingers for that to be literal, but you're not keen on finding out what he'll do if you really take your hands off the wall. He's already killed you countless times, after all. You're not exactly in the position to piss him off, not if you don't want your neck snapped.

"I guess I've been going a little too easy on you, huh, kiddo? You still keep coming back. Is dying not enough to make you learn?"

The thrum of his voice settles low and hot between your legs. His voice has always, always done that for you, even from the moment he approached you at his brother's gate. He'd tried to play himself off as a harmless joker, but you're not stupid. You recognize power and danger when it's presented to you, and you can never resist.

You suck in a deep breath and resist the urge to press your thighs together.

In the end, this was never something you could have seen coming. You were prepared to fight and fight through endless resets until you finally managed to push that knife straight through his soul. Being bent over, legs apart with Sans towering above you like he owned you?

Well, you weren't exactly going to look a gift horse in the mouth. You always assumed he'd be too disgusted with what you've done to touch you.

(Not like he was ever very handsy when you were being good, either.)

His fingers flex, gripping your hip tightly before moving to the button on your pants.

"Now, I don't mind playin' rough, kid. Playin' dirty is a whole other thing. But if you're going to keep going like this... well, I figure I'll just have to show you a _real_ bad time." Your stomach coils with arousal and a pathetic little whimper escapes your mouth. He tightens his hold on your throat briefly but brutally, so hard your vision whites out before he loosens it again. A warning. "No talking. Not unless I tell you to."

You bite back another sound, swallowing instead. He hums in what could be considered some form of approval before he undoes the button, followed by the hiss of the zipper.

He pulls his pelvis back a few inches, and without preamble pulls your pants, underwear and all, down over your ass. Your spread your legs just a little wider so they catch at the knees instead of dropping to the floor. He doesn't seem to care either way, but you hear a 'tsk' as he looks over you.

"Wow. You're a real freak, aintcha? Didn't know you'd like it so much. Or maybe that's just something that happens when I beat the crap outta ya. Either way, it's pretty nasty."

You huff out a breath and try to tell yourself that you're not turned on by the way he's talking down to you. It doesn't quite work.

He dips his fingers between your thighs to explore, brushing his digits teasingly over every sensitive spot he can find. The bones of his phalanges are smooth and slightly cold, warming up quickly from the heat of your body. He doesn't linger in any one place for very long, riling you up and never giving you any kind of satisfaction. You can barely help it when you roll your hips back against him, a silent plead for friction and pressure.

Immediately, he pulls his hand away and slaps you, open-palmed, on the ass. A hiss escapes from between your clenched teeth, an aborted shout rattling around in your chest. He squeezes your throat a little, not quite enough to hurt.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, brat. I'm not here to make you feel good." You swallow again. It's enough to make you behave, but in your current state, the pain just hikes your arousal to dizzying levels. He squeezes your ass, almost possessively. "How about an apology, huh?"

Oh, that's rich. Maybe in the moment, he means an apology for being wanton but it would also be an apology for everything you've ever done. For killing his brother, his friends, for tearing their world to pieces. And you're _not_ sorry for that.

Your silence is telling. He chuckles, low and dark.

"If you're not good, I'm not going to make this any easier on you. Let's say... you better say something right now or I wont bother to stretch your sorry little ass out before I ream it."

You flinch with shock. On one hand, it can't be any worse than what he's already put you through - the blasts of burning hot white light, the broken bones, the one time you accepted his false act of mercy and paid for it...

And on the other hand, you're really, _really_ not interested in how much hurt he could potentially put you through. You know he's ready, willing and able to.

You chew your lip in deliberation for a moment before he growls.

"Gettin' impatient, kid. You better hurry up if you wanna do yourself any favors."

"I-- I-I'm sorry," you whisper, barely audible. He hums behind you and you feel him press your cheeks apart to look at your entrance. You shiver, wishing you could bury your face in your hands.

"What was that? Y'better speak up."

"I-I'm sorry!" Your voice cracks.

"Sorry, what?" he asks, almost innocently. His thumb traces a gentle circle on your pucker and you whimper piteously at the foreign pressure. "Come on, kid."

"S-sorry..." You take a moment to consider before it clicks in your head. A hot flush of shame blooms on your cheeks and spreads down your neck, over your chest. "Sir...?"

"Mmn. Never thought I'd hear it, honestly. You're a prideful little shit. Feels good though. For me, at least."

You feel your face twist in a snarl. That smug son of a--!

Before you can say something you'll almost definitely regret, he pulls his hand away from your ass and instead holds it in front of your face, his first three fingers brushing against your lips. You shy away - the top one is split and overly sensitive, but you can't press back far before you're flush with his pelvis.

"Come on, open up. Unless you wanna change your mind. Ain't no skin off my nose. Wouldn't surprise me if you liked it rough, you disgusting little freak..."

Gritting your teeth, you begrudgingly part your lips. You hear him let out a small, satisfied chuckle as you try to fit your mouth around them. It trails into a soft hum as you work your tongue over and between them, working up as much spit as you can. You know it wont be enough. It'll dry out way too fast, and it's not very slick, but it's still better than nothing. You resent the spark of gratefulness in your chest that he's doing even this.

When he takes them back, they leave your mouth with a lewd, wet _pop!_ It doesn't register for a second, your jaw still hanging open before it shuts with a click when he abruptly pushes his middle finger into your ass.

He pumps it once, twice, before fitting the index finger in alongside it. You have to resist the urge to cry out in discomfort at the stretch and burn, but can't stop the gasp when he shoves the final one in as well. It's way too much, way too fast. Still, he doesn't stop the onslaught, pushing them in roughly and scissoring them apart in a half-hearted effort to open you up.

"Ya know, you've always had a cute little mouth. If I'd known you could do that with your tongue, I might've had you on your knees a couple dozen resets ago."

You involuntarily squeeze down on his phalanges at the suggestion, which he seems to find hilarious, based on the throaty laugh from behind you.

There's a familiar crackle of non-fire that comes with the power in his eye activating and the smell of ozone before he yanks his fingers out of your hole. There's a brief rustle of fabric and suddenly you feel the blunt, unmistakable head of a warm, wet cock pressing insistently against your entrance.

His hand finds its original position on your hip, and before you can protest he yanks you back onto it. There's no way in heaven or hell you could have ever stopped the shriek that explodes out of you as you're pierced.

It's ungodly thick, and you can only be thankful that it's not much longer than average. Still, you feel like it's going to split you open with how minimally you've been prepared for it. Sans growls behind you.

"Fuck, kiddo, that's tight. Haven't had a whole lot back here, h-huh? Gods..."

If he didn't hate you so much, his voice would have come off as almost reverent. You take small comfort in the way his voice stutters, but there's only so much it'll do for you. Hot tears of pain, unbidden and unwanted, come to your eyes as he pulls back halfway and shoves it back in, hilting.

The hand on your throat, all but forgotten, suddenly comes back to life. It's almost as if he's using it to pull you into his thrusting hips, all while stifling the cries that crowd together in your chest, begging to be released. You clench your hands into fists, but don't dare move them away from the wall.

"That's it-- that's good, that's real good-- damn, baby, you keep squeezin' like that... Mmmn... Does it hurt? Does it hurt, kid? Ohh, fuck-- yeah, right there...!"

His voice is loose and deep, and despite how much pain you're in (you can't help but be glad that you'd given into his demands earlier, you can't imagine the suffering you'd have gone through if he hadn't used his fingers first) you can't help but be aroused by the noises he's making.

Somewhere in the middle, your libido had flagged, especially when he actually started in on your ass. But now that you had him in you, fucking _Sans_ using you like a cheap toy, making noises of pleasure while he fucked you out for all you're worth...

"You better not," he warns, but doesn't stop his assault. You can feel his hipbones digging into your flesh painfully. "I told you I wasn't here to-- to... fuck, fuck! ...to make you feel good. You better not cum, you dirty freak. You'll be so fuckin' sorry--"

You believe him, but the urge is palpable. You don't think he would even need to touch you at this point, your desire is so potent. The lines of pain and pleasure are so fucked up you could finish on just the feel of his dick sliding in and out of you, over and over.

You're teetering on the edge, just barely holding back and considering giving it up all together when he finishes. The hand on your throat goes unbearably tight, choking all the air out of you. You thrash weakly with panic, to no avail. He groans and goes still for a second before slowly pumping his hips again, riding it out. Heat blooms in your lower body, tingling almost unpleasantly with whatever monster magic his seed is made up of.

With a self-satisfied noise, he pulls out and you feel his cum drip out of your abused hole, making a slick mess of your thighs. He takes both hands back and without his strength supporting you, you crumple helplessly to your knees.

"Now," he says, and he doesn't even sound winded, the fucking bastard, "I could just kill you right now. But I'm gonna give you a minute here on your own. Then you're gonna exit out of your game, and you're not gonna come back. Understand?"

You hear him walking away, whistling to himself, and then you're alone in the hallway.

Depserate, humiliated and in pain, you reach between your legs to press your own fingers into your ass. It's not as thick and satisfying at Sans' cock, but you're already so close... You come on a muffled sob, fingering your dripping entrance and whimpering his name as his cum soaks your hand.

You pull them out, slumping against the wall and taking a moment to breathe.

You've got a decision to make.

 

>[ **CONTINUE** ][ **RESET** ]

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Sanspai finally noticed you." --Umi


End file.
